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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28945446">Effloresce</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaergaLive/pseuds/TaergaLive'>TaergaLive</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Baldur's Gate 3 one-shots [14]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Baldur's Gate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:34:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,662</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28945446</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaergaLive/pseuds/TaergaLive</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Either he genuinely likes you and he’s going to slip up one day, or he’s just manipulating you and lulling you into a false sense of security. It’s one or the other. I can’t see it going any other way."</p>
<p>Sephrin and Astarion talk about Astarion's behavior, among other things</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Astarion (Baldur's Gate)/Original Female Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Baldur's Gate 3 one-shots [14]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2061618</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Effloresce</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>There was supposed to be a third scene, but I decided I'll just make that a separate part. This felt complete.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“We need to talk.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Sephrin can respond, her brother drags her away from the camp. She stumbles over roots and rocks, too exhausted to keep up with her brother’s pace. If it weren’t for the fact he had grabbed a hold of her arm, she probably would have just sunk to the ground and watched him storm off. For the last three days, she and Gale had been working on her magic, and while she did her best to hide it, she was getting fairly worn out. Especially today. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once he feels they’re far enough away from the camp, Glynren lets go of her. He grimaces when she stumbles to a halt. “Sorry. This...thing you have with Astarion, it’s got to stop. Now.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leaning against a nearby tree, Sephrin sighs. This was not a conversation she wanted to have even when she was feeling well. Today she certainly didn’t have the energy for it. “Glyn, please…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m serious,” he pleads. “Seph, I’m worried about you. Worried about what he might do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She frowns. “He hasn’t done anything to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yet</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he stresses. “You keep defending him because he hasn’t done anything to you, but he very much </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> and most likely </span>
  <em>
    <span>will</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Crossing her arms, she furrows her brows. “And </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> keep demonizing him for something he hasn’t done </span>
  <em>
    <span>yet </span>
  </em>
  <span>while ignoring what he has.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Glynren closes his eyes and holds his hands up, taking a deep breath. He’s not going to lose his cool. He’s not going to yell at her. “I know, Seph, I know. But just...listen to me. Please.” Sephrin studies him for a moment before sighing and nodding. Relieved, Glynren continues. “I get it, okay? He’s...good looking, eloquent, and he’s nice to you. I...I’ve seen it. A few times. But that’s only because he doesn’t let you see the other side of him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> have. And I don’t trust him. Either he genuinely likes you and he’s going to slip up one day, or he’s just manipulating you and lulling you into a false sense of security. It’s one or the other. I can’t see it going any other way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Manipulate. It’s a word she kept hearing the last few days. From learning how to manipulate the Weave to the possibility of Astarion manipulating her, she was growing tired of the word. It was starting to lose meaning to her. What does it mean to manipulate someone? Did it always have to be intentional and for ill will? She thinks about what Glynren just said and how he said it. He’s staying calm. He’s conceding with her, agreeing that Astarion is nice to her before then launching into his fears and opinions. Couldn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> be manipulation, picking your words carefully and choosing just the right way to say them to get the desired result? He </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants</span>
  </em>
  <span> her to listen to him, to see his point. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A wave of nausea interrupts her philosophical debate. She decides to hear what her brother has to say. “What do you mean? What have you seen?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nibbles on the inside of his cheek. “Seph, he had me pinned to a tree the other day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He spun this whole tale about how I’m oppressing you and purposely holding you back from, from...from I don’t even know what! Anything, I guess. He thinks I don’t want to see you grow. No, he doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> it, he wants </span>
  <em>
    <span>me</span>
  </em>
  <span> to think it.” Glynren runs a hand through his blond hair, pacing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a pause as Sephrin analyses what he’s said. “He said all that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nodding, Glynren looks to his sister pleadingly. “You know I’d never do anything to hold you back. Not on purpose. You know that, right?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Of course,” she whispers. And how could she not? This was the brother who let her tag along when he went places. The brother who chased the monsters away when they invaded her nightmares. The one who would listen to her prattle at the dinner table about some fact she learned or a story she read. The one who tried to get her out of her little corner of the library once in a while to get fresh air. The one who tries to convince her to make friends. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Relief floods his face. He hadn’t lost her to Astarion. Not yet anyway. When he was gathering his courage to have this conversation with her, Glynren was afraid she would be so blinded by Astarion’s charm that she’d believe anything that the vampire said over her own brother’s words. “And it’s not just me,” he adds. “I know he doesn’t like it when you go off with Gale to work on your magic.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sephrin shifts. It’s getting harder for her to hold her weight up, but she’s trying not to focus on the pain coursing through her body. “But he encouraged me to do it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He did?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even before he asked, even as the words were leaving her mouth, Sephrin questioned it. Had he encouraged her? He hadn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>dis</span>
  </em>
  <span>couraged her. But when she had asked for his opinion on the matter, Astarion remained vague. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sephrin, darling, what do you want me to tell you? What are you hoping that I’ll say? </span>
  </em>
  <span>He had her answer the question for herself. And it makes her think back to what Gale had told her. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Please affirm to Astarion that this arrangement is strictly platonic. If looks could kill, he’d have struck me dead a few times over by now. He’s fiercely...territorial over you.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Glynren softens, seeing the conflict on his sister’s face. “I don’t want to tell you what to do. But I don’t want to see you get hurt either.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After mulling it around, Sephrin nods. “I’ll talk to him about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He flinches. “Wh-what?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“At any rate, I can’t have him threatening you.” She tilts her head, surprised by his reaction. “What’s wrong?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His blood runs cold. If Sephrin talks to Astarion about the conversation they had, he might tell her about what else they talked about. </span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re jealous because she’s got her man while you’re still pining away like a little schoolboy. </span>
  </em>
  <span>It shouldn’t bother him, shouldn’t embarrass him, and yet it did. Mostly because at home, he had only ever dated women. Mostly because no one in his family knew the reason he ended his last relationship. And he wasn’t quite ready for that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But on the other hand, if Glynren tells Sephrin not to have that conversation with Astarion, well, she’s going to wonder why. Shaking his head, he knows he’s been defeated. “Nothing. I just...don’t want him to get upset that I told you about it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She studies his expression a moment or two before squaring her shoulders. “Well, I told the two of you to stop fighting. Astarion needs to respect that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before she heads back to camp, she hugs Glynren. “Thank you...for looking out for me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he watches her leave, he grimaces. In his mind, there is no way this conversation is going to end well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>_____________________</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another wave of pain wracks through her body as she sits on the rock. Groaning, Sephrin hugs her stomach and bends over. She thought about waiting to have the conversation with Astarion tomorrow, but she was afraid she would lose her fire by then. She wishes to be firm but fair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It has been a while since we’ve resorted to this, my lady,” she hears him purr as he nears the lake. Indeed, as they had been in camp, she gave him eyes that said “Meet me in the woods.” As he approaches, he eyes her carefully, noting the way she holds herself. But he makes no comment on it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Taking a breath, Sephrin manages to stand up, pressing a hand to her side. For whatever reason, this makes the pain more bearable. “Astarion, we, I’d like for us to, to talk.” Her stuttering is more from straining than from fear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Astarion cocks a brow at her, stiffening. “Is that so?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My brother told me of the conversation you two had.” She tries to keep her face stern yet not mad. She wants him to take her seriously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If possible, his brow furrows more. “Did he now? I’m surprised he did. That was days ago. I was convinced he wanted to keep it private.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She presses on, wanting to say what she had prepared to say before she lost her nerve. “So it is true, then, that you held him against a tree and tried to convince him that he is the reason I am what I am?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Astarion presses a hand to his chest. “I assure you, it was in self-defense. He was wielding an ax. He could have killed me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Astarion,” she sighs, and she feels her anger waning. It was difficult for her to hold onto it. “Please tell me the truth.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I am!” he insists, though there’s a hint of a smile. “I only pinned him to that tree after he took a swing at me.” He pauses, examining his fingers. “Though, I will admit I might have riled him up a tad.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frowning, she moves her hand to rest on her back, which was starting to hurt from standing. “You promised me you wouldn’t antagonize him anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, uh, uh!” Astarion wags his finger. “I did no such thing. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>demanded </span>
  </em>
  <span>that I stop dangling you ‘over his head like a trophy.’ My memory is impeccable, darling, and I pride myself over it. At no point did I ever agree to your demands, however.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her stomach churns. Now that he mentions it, she does recall he never agreed. Just like he never encouraged her to study magic, he left it vague. On purpose? So she would think what she wants to think of him? Sitting back on the rock, she covers her face with her hands. Stupid, stupid, stupid. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, just...tell me why,” she begs. “Why did you say that to him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stays quiet for so long, Sephrin almost believes he left. “Because it’s true.” Lowering her hands, she peeks up at him. Mischief gone from his eyes, he looks at the lake pensively. “Truly, I believe he is holding you back on purpose. That he is a coward and afraid of losing his control over you. I’ve seen you begin to blossom into yourself just to wilt the moment he opens his mouth.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As she listens, she gazes at her hands resting on her lap. Is he being truthful? Or did he change his tone solely to garner her trust? Was it so different from what she tried moments ago, trying to appear firm and unmoving? She </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted</span>
  </em>
  <span> him to react a certain way, just as she’s sure he wants her to react a certain way to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was a mistake, starting this conversation tonight. Already, she feels exhausted. “I...would appreciate it if you could be…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nicer?” he finishes for her, and just like that, the mischief is back. “My dear, you don’t like me because I’m ‘nice.’ You said it yourself. You like me because I’m -what was the word you used? - confident. That I’m not afraid to speak my mind. And that is what I did. I spoke my mind to your brother.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Niceness is for dullards and cowards,” he continues, striding closer to the lake. “Do you know where the word comes from, my dear? It meant ‘ignorance.’ Those who were ‘nice’ were idiots who did as they were told, who please others in hopes of gaining some favor. Brown-nosers and sycophants! And now? Now, the word has little meaning. What is ‘nice,’ darling? What’s interesting about being alive for so many centuries is you get to hear so many new words come into play, and old words change their meaning. ‘Nice’ has meant ‘pleasant.’ It has also meant ‘dissolute.’ You might call a maiden ‘nice’ to say she’s chaste. It’s such a banal term that it lacks proper meaning.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turns to her and gives her a pointed look. “So, don’t tell me to be ‘nice.’”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Again, it grows quiet between them. How could she respond to that? Was that what he thought of her? Did he think her a “dullard and a coward?” She certainly didn’t have the courage to ask. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She mumbles to herself, “I wonder…” But then she catches herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not quickly enough, however. Astarion leans closer. “Wonder what, dear? Come, come, you’ve already started. Might as well finish.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sighing, she nibbles on her lower lip. “I...I was just wondering...how much of that animosity is really from you.” While she doesn’t look at him, she can feel the confused look he gives her. “I’ve...actually read a lot about vampires when I was younger. About all sorts of creatures, really. Went through a phase where I was...fascinated by monsters, I suppose is the best way to describe it. Back then, monsters were a fantasy, something I never thought I’d see for myself. And I remember reading that even the...kindest of people, when they turn, have their hearts darken and harden.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she peeks up at him, she expects a mocking grin or even a scowl. But instead, she is met with a distant stare. After a moment, he sighs, holding out his hand. “Let’s...take a walk.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It isn’t the response she’s expecting. And the last thing on her mind is walking. She’s already tired. But something in his eyes lures her in. She puts her hand in his, and he helps her up. Languidly, they walk the perimeter of the lake, without a word at first. Astarion lets her hold onto his arm, which makes walking a bit easier. And surprisingly, she finds the walk helping with her pain. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they get a quarter of the way around, Astarion finally starts speaking. “I have never been what you’d call a ‘good’ person. No politician is if he wishes to further his career. I’ve made all sorts of underhanded deals with shady individuals, accepted bribes for unsavory intentions, jailed ‘innocent’ people because a nobleman wanted his home for personal gain, made a few idle threats here and there. You have to realize while I’m old compared to you, I was fairly young when I started my career, a career I didn’t even want. Perhaps that’s just an excuse for my egregious behavior, but it made my job easier. Made my life easier. It meant I could afford a lifestyle I enjoyed. It solidified my social standing, lined my pockets with money.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you want?” Sephrin looks up at him with a slight tilt of her head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To do. Career-wise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This part of the lake had more foliage. He helps her over a protruding root. “Oh, I can’t quite recall. Truth be told, I don’t think I had any aspirations. You told me once that if you could, you’d be a student forever. I suppose you could say I was the opposite. If I could, I would have been quite content being dumb and lazy the rest of my life.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>While her stomach was feeling better from walking, her feet were miserable. “I thought you said you didn’t remember your past.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighs. “I didn’t. Still don’t, not completely anyway. But bits and pieces float around in my mind. Every so often, they come together, forming lucid memories. As I said before, I have an excellent memory; it makes forgetting much harder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But the point I’m trying to make,” Astarion continues, slowing down for Sephrin’s sake, “Is that this is who I am, Sephrin. I’m not a kind, sweet person. I don’t look out for others. I look out for myself and my interests.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sephrin purses her lips, staying quiet for a moment, taking in what he’s said. “You’re kind and sweet to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This makes him stop in his tracks as he regards her. “True,” he says after a moment. “If you’d like to call the way I treat you as kind and sweet. Those are certainly not the words I hear getting thrown around by the others. In fact, I’d be more inclined to agree with them.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sheepishly, she pouts. “Am I...a possession to you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” he replies with no hesitation, yet he doesn’t assert it. “I wouldn’t call you that. And before you ask, I don’t know what I’d call you. But I enjoy your company and don’t want others mucking it up.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the words sink in, it starts to click. Astarion had told her he believes Glynren to be afraid of losing his grasp on her. Why would he see it that way? Is </span>
  <em>
    <span>Astarion</span>
  </em>
  <span> the one who is afraid of that? Does he antagonize her brother and paint him to be the villain because Astarion doesn’t want to lose her? Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, a little girl’s fantasy, but it makes sense. He says he doesn’t view her as a possession, and yet he is afraid to lose her. She can’t call that love, not necessarily. Can’t quite call it affection either. This isn’t romantic. It’s a mess. In fact, she recognizes she should get out while she still can.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But she doesn’t want to. Because she selfishly </span>
  <em>
    <span>wants </span>
  </em>
  <span>Astarion. And doesn’t that make her just as bad as him? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Astarion starts walking again. As Sephrin follows, she winces. The rest was nice, but it stiffened her feet up. He notices her grimace and stops again. “Need a lift, darling?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wh-what? Oh, no, no I’m…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he crouches down in front of her. “Come on, climb up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Blushing, she squeezes her thighs together. “I, um, I’m sort of..”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” he can’t help but smirk over his shoulder, guessing what her hangup is. “I can smell it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“WHAT?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He chuckles. “I’m sure I’m the only one who can. Shouldn’t jostle anything out of place. And I honestly don’t care if you bleed on me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Face aflame, she groans internally. Of course. She should have known that she couldn’t hide from her vampiric boyfriend mother nature’s monthly visit. As embarrassing as that is, she supposes it makes it easier to explain why she doesn’t feel well without actually having to justify it. She shudders as she thinks of all the times she tried to explain it to Glynren without admitting to him what the actual problem was. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I’m fine. I’m just sick. I’m not contagious. I just don’t feel well. Please, just leave me alone</span>
  </em>
  <span>. At least she wouldn’t have to go through that with Astarion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After some more complaining - “I’m too heavy.” “You really don’t need to.” etc- Sephrin climbs atop Astarion’s back. He hoists her up and continues walking. It feels funny at first. Sephrin hasn’t ridden on someone’s back since she was a little girl. Initially, she’s afraid she’s going to fall, but Astarion has his hands locked tightly under her rear. Once she realizes that, she’s then afraid she’s going to choke him with her arms around his neck, but he makes no complaints about it. And she quickly realizes that she didn’t need to worry about </span>
  <em>
    <span>things</span>
  </em>
  <span> getting jostled. Indeed, even with her legs wrapped around Astarion’s waist, her rag stays in place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I ask you something, and you not laugh at me?” she muses after a while, unsure where the question even came from. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Already, Astarion is chuckling. “I suppose it would depend on the question.” He then pauses. “We’ve had this conversation before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We have?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” he replies, adjusting his grip on her. “Back at the temple. You asked me why I hang around you so much. And then you stuck your tongue down my throat.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did not!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He laughs. “That’s how </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> remember it. But please, do go on. I’d like to see if this question leads down a similar road.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now she’s embarrassed by her question. Her grip around his neck tightens as she tries to hide, despite the fact she’s behind him and he can’t see her. She only finally asks when he threatens to drop her. “Why have...why have we only h-had sex twice?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> is certainly not a question Astarion was expecting, but he does well to hide his surprise and keep his pace. “Is this your way of complaining we don’t have enough sex, darling?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“N-no!” she blushes. She knew she shouldn’t have asked. “I just thought...when we first started this...that’s what you wanted from me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a smirk on his face. “As much as I love </span>
  <em>
    <span>diving</span>
  </em>
  <span> between your legs,” he accentuates his point with a playful pinch to her underside, which makes her yelp. “I’m not a sex-crazed deviant. Besides, I’ve been content with our little frottage sessions. You’re less withdrawn then, too.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He then casts a wink over his shoulder. “But if you’d like me to </span>
  <em>
    <span>ravage</span>
  </em>
  <span> you more often, you need only ask. I’ll take you now if you’d like, blood at all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Could her face turn redder? She tries to hide her face behind her hands, but it’s difficult to do while holding onto him. Yet his words make her chest swell. He’s content with what they’ve been doing? He’s right; she is much more relaxed when they keep most of their clothes on and don’t go “all the way.” But she always imagined he was disappointed afterward, hungry for more. What a relief to hear that he didn’t mind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My turn for a question,” he presses, and while his voice still has his purr, it’s gentler in tone. “Why are you still so shy around me when we have sex? It’s no longer new. There’s nothing left to hide from me. You once told me your brain is very mean to you. That you think yourself an awful person. But why specifically about this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a loaded question with a loaded answer, and Sephrin isn’t sure she’s ready to answer it. Or if she even can answer it. Nibbling on her lip, she tries to form a coherent response. “I...well, it’s...difficult to explain. But it’s something I’ve been, been thinking about lately, been trying to work through.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She explains what happened with Gale the first time he tried working with her on her magic, how they were connected by the Weave and thus could see and hear each other’s thoughts. Astarion remains quiet throughout her explanation, merely nodding along as she describes how Gale has been helping her deal with her inner voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In fact,” she continues with a shy smile. “Most of the time, when I’m trying to, to convince myself that, that I’m worth something, I...often hear it in your voice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Astarion comes to a halt. “Really?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her bashful smile grows as she nods. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a pause before he starts walking again, smiling. “Well, I have been told I have a melodious voice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They continue that way as they make their way around the lake, flirtatiously chattering away. Astarion manages to squeeze more information out of Sephrin about her previous “lovers,” if one could call them that. To his surprise, he is her first actual relationship. All of the others never lasted more than a night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To be honest,” she says, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I don’t actually know...how many there have been.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Timidly, she goes on to explain how desperately alone she started to feel as she got older, how she somehow convinced herself she was unattractive and had nothing to offer another. And she never found anyone worth fighting for. No one seemed to pique her interest the way she read in books. She felt broken. So, one night, she snuck out of the house and went to a tavern. It was the only place she could think of going that she could try to meet someone. The pub was so packed, the crowd so rowdy, she was scared out of her wits. So, she bought a drink. And then another. And soon that voice inside her was gone. She felt at ease. She felt pretty. She felt worthy of attention. And she started getting attention, from some pretty human boy she can hardly remember. She kept drinking to keep that pleasant feeling going. She was afraid to lose that buzz. The rest of the night is a blur. All she can remember after that is waking up the next morning in a bed she did not recognize with a man she did not recognize and a voice in her head reaming her out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not all of them, but most of them happened that way,” she concludes, eyes focused on the lake beside them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You drank that night, too,” Astarion muses. “At the party.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She nods. “I did, yes. But...only that one glass. I wanted to drink so much more after you...well, after you told me you wanted...you know…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He chuckles. “I know, but say it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Again, she feels him pinch her and she squeaks. “After you told me you wanted to have sex with me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There you go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I didn’t. Drink more I mean. I knew if I drank more, I wouldn’t...remember.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another chuckle. “Darling, I’m touched! And a bit turned on, I might add.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, he said that on purpose, she knows it! She breaks out into a nervous giggle and can’t help but feel a little proud about it. While he could be lying or just teasing her, she likes to imagine he’s telling the truth. Never in her life did she imagine turning a man on, and without using her body for that matter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By this point, they had circumnavigated the lake, and Astarion began to take them back to camp, keeping her on his back until they were closer. Once her feet were on the ground, she takes hold of his hand and holds him back. He turns to her quizzically. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want you to promise,” she says softly, “To not treat my brother so cruelly anymore.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Astarion eyes her evenly. She had chosen her words carefully this time. A sigh. “Very well. I shall strive to be...more civil toward him. But I want it known that I’m doing this for you, not him. I don’t care about </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> feelings.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Upon returning to camp, they are greeted by a bored-looking Shadowheart and a Lae’zel staring intently into the fire, though it is only Shadowheart who actually greets them. She cocks a brow in their direction. “And what were you two off doing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Walking around the lake,” the two of them respond simultaneously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shadowheart tilts her head. “Did you rehearse that before you returned?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With a flourish, Astarion waves Shadowheart off. “As much as I’d love to stay and banter with you, my dear Shadowheart, I’m much too exhausted. I take my leave for the evening. Good night, my love.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he enters the tent, Sephrin stares out in shock as Shadowheart gives her a confused yet amused look. Because that last part was directed to Sephrin, and it was followed up with a soft kiss on her cheek. It was so simple, and yet it touched her heart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My word,” Shadowheart recovers, shifting. “Perhaps all that training with Gale is paying off. You seem to have Astarion completely charmed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pursing her lips, Sephrin sits down with them. With a comment like that, she was too embarrassed to follow Astarion into the tent. Besides, he didn’t give any indication as to whether he wanted her company. After their conversations, she didn’t want to push it. “I...wouldn’t say that…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, Shadowheart studies her before returning her attention to the fire. “No, I’m sure you wouldn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sephrin flinches. What was </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> supposed to mean? She tries to search Shadowheart’s face for the meaning, but the cleric is hard to read. Glancing around, Sephrin decides to change the subject. “Where are the others?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gale has retired for the night,” Shadowheart gestures vaguely. “I have no idea where Wyll and your brother have wandered off to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Frowning, Sephrin gazes into the fire. She supposes it only makes sense. She spends most of her time nowadays with either Astarion or Gale. Her brother should be allowed to spend time with others as well. But she can’t help but feel the only time the two get to see each other is when they’re arguing. It isn’t like them to fight so much. Usually, Glynren fights </span>
  <em>
    <span>for</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sephrin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the flames flicker, she cannot help but glance now and again at Shadowheart and Lae’zel. Of all the companions she’s been traveling with, Sephrin avoids these two the most. Part of her knows why, though she hates admitting she feels threatened by them. Other women usually make Sephrin feel insecure, and she hates herself for it. But Shadowheart and even Lae’zel are both beautiful in their own ways. They both hold their heads high; they both take shit from no one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps it’s not insecurity Sephrin feels but rather jealousy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, part of her longs to make peace with them, to become allies, if only to feel safe in their company. So she braces herself before trying to start a conversation. “Wh-what do you plan to, to do if and, and when we get the tadpoles out?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shadowheart hardly spares her a glance. “We go our separate ways, of course. What else?” Direct and to the point, but Sephrin cannot help but flinch at the harsh tone. “The ties that bind us would be well and truly severed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Sephrin nods, she notices Lae’zel doesn’t bother to answer. Indeed, it seems as though the githyanki is really there as she watches the flames. Sephrin wonders if perhaps she is mediating or just merely lost in thought. Biting her lip, Sephrin debates just crawling into the tent after Astarion. She gave conversing a try, did she not? But for some stupid reason, she presses forward. “Where would you go?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This time, Shadowheart does look at her. “Baldur’s Gate. And before you bother asking, no, I am not telling you what I am doing there or who I am meeting or anything else for that matter.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ouch. Sephrin stares at her lap with a frown. “Is there anything you’d tell me?” she mutters to herself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The look she gets would turn stronger men to stone. In fact, Sephrin is petrified in her spot as Shadowheart regards her. “You already know my life’s calling and the greatest problem I’ve ever faced. What else could you possibly want to know?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“J-Just…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I like night orchids and can’t swim. Is that the sort of thing you meant?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sephrin blinks. Yes and no. She wasn’t expecting such an answer. “Wh-which one?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now it’s Shadowheart’s turn to blink. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Night orchids. There, there’s the, the Lady of the Night, and then the Queen of the Night. I’ve, I’ve read that the first is more common. The Queen only blooms once a year.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The menacing look disappears from Shadowheart’s face. “The Lady, then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sephrin nods, still looking at her lap. “I’ve, I’ve never seen one. Either one, really. Except for sketches. They seem pretty. Father had a book on botany. Said they smell beautiful. Like citrus.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The cleric studies her for a moment before returning her gaze to the fire. “They are pretty. I like that they only bloom at night. Most people pick flowers during the day, and they only pick the ones with the most impressive bloom. The Night Orchid is safe from being plucked for its beauty by those prying hands.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a deeper meaning in there, Sephrin is smart enough to know that. But she’s also smart enough to know not to ask. Instead, she starts to pick at her nails. “I’m partial to chrysanthemums.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She expects a snarky, disinterested response, but instead, Shadowheart asks, “Why is that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A shy smile. “They grow in autumn when most other flowers start to die."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I suppose they suit you since you tend to keep mum," Shadowheart muses. That makes Sephrin smile. A well-placed pun always does. But Shadowheart tilts her head. "Then again, you haven't been so skittish lately. You don't even hide behind that book anymore."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Book? Oh, right, her father's book, the last one he wrote. Where was it now? In her pack which rests in her tent. How long has it been since she's read it, leafed through its pages for comfort? She had almost forgotten about it, truth be told. A pang of guilt runs through her, though part of her knows her father would be thrilled she was opening up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Neither she nor Shadowheart says much of anything after that as if both had decided they had opened up enough for one night. Lae'zel eventually stands up, her brows furrowed in deep thought as she stalks away. Sephrin wonders if she should have tried talking to her, but the githyanki still unnerves her. One step at a time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, Sephrin crawls into her tent. To her surprise, Astarion was telling the truth when he said he was going to sleep. Sitting upright, his eyes closed and relaxed, his chest rises up and down languidly. It makes her think that perhaps he does need to breathe, or he at least finds doing so comforting. As she observes him, she notes how relaxed he looks, and she can't help but feel a little jealous. She is the only one in her family who cannot enter the reverie, reaching that meditative state of peaceful memories. Only elves could, apparently even vampiric ones. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not wanting to intrude, she quietly gets herself dressed for the evening before slipping into the bedroll. She winces when his eyes flutter open, fixating on her. She opens her mouth to apologize, but Astarion scoots closer to her, placing her head on his lap before closing his eyes again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps they spoke enough that evening. With a soft smile, Sephrin closes her eyes. She can't enter the reverie, but she still feels the same sweet serenity. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>***I just wanted to make something clear. Sephrin states that she feels broken for not finding anyone who piqued her interest "like she read in books" and she has stated before that Astarion is the first person she's ever found attractive. I want to make it clear that I am NOT saying Astarion "fixed" her or that she ever was "broken" to begin with. I'm asexual myself. We're not broken :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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